


Nearly forgotten

by Lady_Talla_Doe



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Biting, Clothed Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, OR IS IT? they don't know, Shower Sex, Stand Alone, Stranger Sex, amnesia fancy, amnesia turin, black rain used for porn purposes, bottom Turin, top Fancy, well turin is naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Talla_Doe/pseuds/Lady_Talla_Doe
Summary: Amnesia Turin gets caught out in the black rain, and Company man amnesia Fancy rescues him. Things get steamy in the decontamination shower.
Relationships: Fancy Lee/Turin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Nearly forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> set in the first two episodes of season 5! there isn't really any spoilers, and this doesn't fit in with any of my other fics for them.  
> HAPPY NEW YEARS!

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* * *

The blackrain alarms were sounding- wailing, really- but Turin hadn't found shelter. Hissing drops had begun to fall, and he hugged the side of the building, trying to stay under the shallow awning. The storm had blown in quicker than he had anticipated, leaving him stuck along a line of closed down doors, and facing the possibility of having to cross the uncovered street during the acid rain fall.

He hovered at the edge, the smell of the black rain choked him with its stink; or perhaps it was the burning smell of the executed. He brought a hand up to wipe the his tearing eyes, but didn't keep it close enough to the building. Turin shrank back against the wall with a hiss as drops splashed against the back of his bare hand.

"Fuck," he cursed, shaking his burned hand. He was starting to get very worried; technically, as long as the rain didn't touch him, he could survive out here, but the rain could go on for hours and if the wind shifted this small shelter wouldn't be enough.

Rain fell just beyond his toes in a steady curtain, the sound soothing now that the distant screams had died down.

 _Okay_ , Turin thought to himself as he glanced up and down the abandoned street. _You can do this. Just a couple of feet-_

He felt it a second before it happened; the wind shifted, and suddenly Turin's tiny awning didn't do a damn thing against the rain. He threw up an arm to cover his face, but yelled in pain as the rain burned against his bare hand, rolling down his wrist to scald a line down his forearm. It bit through his pants slower, but he could feel it eating away at them.

He didn't have time to do more then yell, because the wall behind him opened up and Turin was yanked backwards into the small space beyond.  
He hit the cement floor hard with his shoulder, cradling his injured hand to his chest. The rattling of the metal storm door closing was deafening, echoing off every wall, and the panels shivered in place a moment before quiet slowly fell.

The person who had pulled him from the rain twisted back around, quick as a snake, and grabbed Turin by the front of his jacket.

"Get this off. Anything the rain touched, quickly!" The man didn't leave Turin much choice; he was yanking off his jacket as he spoke, and hissed out a curse when water on Turin's jacket burned his hand.

Spurred out of his daze, he tossed the jacket away and ripped his vest and shirt quickly. The man - a company man, by the blue mark on his jacket shoulder- didn't back off, hauling Turin to his feet and pushing him towards the back of the small room.

Turin recognized the space as a Company black rain emergency shelter. Officers were not supposed to bring civilians into them, but with spots of burning rain eating bloody circles into his skin, Turin couldn't find it in himself to care.

His back hit the tiles, and his feet slipped, but the Company officer grabbed him by the arm and kept him upright with brute force.   
The pipes groaned, then water -clean water- sprayed down.  
The water was stale, smelling like the barrel it has been stored in, but it was clean and soothed the burns. He only realized he was shaking, adrenaline making his heart pound, when the first touches of water hit his face and his heartbeat began to slow.

Turin slumped, hand tight around the stranger's wrist. Lukewarm water cascaded down over his shoulders, running down where the point of contact to splash on the stranger's jacket, but he didn't seem to care.

"Don't leave it until you're sure it's all washed off." The stranger ordered. Finally, the man backed up, giving Turin space.

He was taller, his straight black hair pulled back in a tail- it must fall to the bottom of his shoulder blades, Turin guessed from how much hung over his shoulder before he swept it back.

His skin was gold, no visible scars, and he had a neatly trimmed black beard that drew attention to his full mouth. The stranger was currently scowling at him, pulling his own jacket off to expose the sleeveless black shirt he wore underneath.

His eyes were brown, the type a more poetic man might call chocolate, or coffee; but Turin lacked that sort of poetry. He sank slowly down the shower wall, and cracked a smile at the man as water ran down his hair, sticking it to his shoulders.

"Didn't think you company types grew your hair out."   
  
He cast Turin an arrogant look, "There is no rule against it. Wash your hair, and anywhere the rain touched you." He held out a fresh bar of off white soap.

He thought about flipping him the bird, but shoved himself to standing again instead, and took the offered soap.  
"I'm not a child, I know how to deal with black rain."

"Then why are your pants still on?"

Turin made a face, "I'm shy," he said sarcastically, but he began undoing his belt as he kicked off his soaked shoes, and dragged his wet pants down his legs. There were small bloody circles on the outside of his left thigh, matching holes in his pants. He sucked in a breath as the water ran over it, washing the acid away.

It stung like hells, the acid sting transforming into regular hurt. Turin touched the edge of one carefully, mouth pressed into a thin line.

The company man had kicked off his own shoes, stepping barefoot back into the spray. He didn't seem to mind that that water made his clothing stick to him, clinging to the strong lines of his body; hugging a defined stomach, and emphasizing strong thighs. Turin turned his gaze away, not wanting to start anything by staring. He hurt enough as it was.

Fingers touched the side of his face, and coolness spread from them; the stranger carefully worked something into the small burns on his cheek, Turin didn't flinch away, although he fell still under his touch, wary. But his fingers were light and careful around the injuries, patting whatever it was on his fingers onto each bloody circle - touch impossibly light. The stuff didn't wash away under the rush of the shower.

He felt the tension running slowly out of his shoulders, and released the breath he hadn't realized he'd held. The pain faded, becoming a mild discomfort he could push easily from his mind.

Next the stranger took his hand, spreading the medicine carefully along his burned palm. His strong fingers were firm, but when Turin winced at a sharp spike of pain, he softened his touch, until those wounds too fell into numbness.

They both looked down at Turin's bare thigh.

Until now, it had been within the bounds of comfort, although strange, to have this man's hands on his skin. But the rain drop marks went high towards his hip, curving uncomfortably close to his groin. There were burn marks at the edge of his briefs, pale skin showing through the grey material.

Turin was sure the boundary of politeness had been reached.

The stranger didn't seem to have the same compunction; his touch was soft, and rather then apply it individually to the burns, he smoothed his palm up Turin's thigh. Coolness spread with it, a palm-wide trail of slickness that made him shiver, and his breath catch.

A different kind of tension rose in his stomach. He was suddenly very aware of his own state of undress, water clinging to his bare skin, dripping from his hair. The actual shower had shut off, leaving them in silence save for their own breathing.

He made the mistake of looking the man in the face, and froze at the smoldering intensity in his eyes.   
_That's how you look at things you want to eat_ , he thought faintly.

"I told you to remove anything that had acid rain." He said softly, but there was something to his tone. A _hunger_.

Turin felt faint, off balance at being at the receiving end of all this strange intensity; he swallowed air, and licked the water off his lips. The man’s eyes followed the motion.

"I took it all off," he replied, with none of the defensiveness he might have normally.

The stranger leaned in.

"Not all of it." His breath washed warm over Turin's mouth, and the stranger watched his face from his spot hovering over Turin as he curled his fingers under the elastic of his briefs, tugging gently on it.

Turin didn't speak, voice seeming caught in his throat as the man pulled his last piece of clothing down, leaving the wet briefs caught around Turin's knees. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath as his cock stirred in interest.

The man took the soap from Turin's numb hand, and he watched him from under his lashes, watched as he washed his hands clean.

They hung in that frozen moment, Turin unsure of what was happening. When the man moved, it was to press the bar of soap against the wet skin of Turin's abdomen, sliding it slowly up his belly. Turin's stomach clenched, but he didn't stop him, something like anticipation bubbling in his blood.

The stranger looked him in the face and smirked. "What's your name?"  
"...Turin," he answered after a moment. "Who are you?"   
It was a bit late for an introduction, now that his dick was curving towards the man's hand -hard and aching to be touched, Turin's arousal impossible to hide.

But he intentionally avoided it, sliding the bar of soap up over Turin's wet skin, and passing it over one of his nipples.

Turin let out a shaky breath. The man's eyes were hungry on his face, soaking up every little reaction Turin had.

"Call me Fancy." The man answered, voice husky. He cut off Turin's snarky reply by dragging the soap over his other nipple.

He was so close, his knees knocking against Turin's; the wet material of his pants hugging him like a second skin, tight and dark over the curve of his thigh. Wet enough that those pants revealed more then they hid. Turin found himself swaying forward, seeking his heat despite the muggy temperature of the room. Fancy stayed just out of range, and while it frustrated him, Turin couldn't keep his eyes off his lips.

Water slid slowly down that full bottom lip, beading on it, and Turin watched it hungrily.   
"...you going to keep half-assing it, or are you going to touch me?" Turin grumbled into the hot silence.   
Fancy's gaze was intense, nearly as heavy as the hand resting on Turin's chest.

"Alright then," The Company officer said softly, and he let the soap drop. His sud covered hand slid down Turin's chest, pausing on his belly. "I'll touch you."

His fingers were hot, and slick with soap. He trailed just the pads over Turin’s skin, lower and lower, teasingly light. Turin’s hand was still tight around Fancy’s wrist, but he didn’t force him- it didn’t even occur to him that he could, in that moment. His breathe caught, then rushed out of him as Fancy finally touches him properly, his hand closing around Turin’s cock and stroking agonizingly slowly.

His gaze never left Turin’s face, eagerly drinking in his every reaction. It was intense, too close and too intimate, but Turin _liked it;_ liked how close he stood, his every breath washing over Turin’s mouth, _liked_ how confident his touches were. This stranger knew he was attractive, knew that Turin would look at his body, and desire it. It should have been irritating, that level of confidence, but hot anticipation made his blood race.

Fancy smirked like he knew his thoughts, and released his aching cock; Turin’s breath stuttered out, a protest on the tip of his tongue, but the company man cupped his sack and rolled it carefully, eyes on Turin’s face.

“Awfully quit,” he commented softly, fingers brushing behind Turin’s sack. He spread his legs unconsciously, and Fancy dragged his soaked briefs down his legs, pushing Turin back against the tiled wall as he circled his hole teasingly, and idle promise.

The soap was rubbing off Fancy’s hand, and so he left it at just a teasing touch, and returned his hand to Turin’s cock, stroking him firmly but far too slow. Turin’s skin flushed, red rising up his neck as his breath turned choppy; when Fancy leaned in, he tilted his face up to meet him.

Fancy’s lips were wet, his mouth hot. Turin opened his without hesitation, gasping into the kiss as he stroked him faster, drove him to the edge

Standing there face to face, breath mingling in a hot cloud, back pressed against the warming tiles and his hands yanking at Fancy’s clothes, Turin had a flash of _something_. Almost for one moment, like he recognised him; he lifted one hand, clutching at Fancy’s sleek pony tail. The binds came out in his fingers and it spread like dark ink over his shoulders.

It was so fucking _soft_ , he was almost irritated. He twisted it between his fingers, pulling Fancy closer by it as they kissed.

Between his own loud heartbeats, he realized something was beeping. His contamination bracelet was flashing – alarm blaring- but his heart was already in his throat, head muddled already. Fancy growled, a low noise of irritation when Turin tried to twist away, and reached out of his view to flip the shower back on.

Lukewarm water poured down on them, slicking Fancy’s hair, and he kissed and nipped along Turin’s neck, pushing his head back. His thigh nudged between Turin’s, wet fabric against his inner thighs making Turin gasp and swear. Turin rocked against it, breaking away from the kiss as he tipped over the edge, stomach clenching and hips stuttering into Fancy’s hand as he cummed harder than he had in memory.

The small room echoed with his yell of pleasure, even as the water washed the cum off Fancy’s dark shirt. The Company officer stroked him through his orgasm, until Turin had to yank at his hair, pulling harshly. Fancy laughed, but it wasn’t malicious; he seemed hungrier then before, greedily soaking up Turin’s reactions. Released his cock, only to skim his hands over his hips, keep him close as he kissed him breathless.

“There’s lube around here somewhere,” the Company man said, voice breathless and rough as they parted. Turin slumped against the tiles, but anticipation bubbled up once more.

“Better hurry up and find it,” he smirked at the grunt of surprise, as he grabbed Fancy through his pants.

The decon bracelet lay forgotten at the bottom of the shower, light still flickering weakly. They were far too wrapped up in each other to notice when the shower ran colder, then ran out entirely.


End file.
